


Streetlamp Stars

by VenTheWriter



Series: Moonlight Series [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenTheWriter/pseuds/VenTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeping an eye on the Floor Brats drives Kasamatsu insane. But none of them hold a candle to the trouble that is Kise Ryouta. </p>
<p>[Can be read as stand-alone]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Streetlamp Stars

Kasamatsu had finally— _finally_ managed to commandeer one of the few comfortable chairs in the living space. He’d previously been sitting at the kitchen area’s island, tapping his fingers across his notebook while flipping between soliloquies in his copy of _Sonnets: From Spencer to Shakespeare_ with the other hand. Some of the other guys were having a late-night gaming fest on the giant TV Akashi had brought in during the first few weeks. He had no idea what they were playing, but there was a lot of shouting and he was pretty sure that both Kuroko and Furihata had been bodily tackled to the ground in separate incidents (a brief glance over his shoulder assured him that no one had died). He stepped in at the second throwing to tell them to calm down before he kicked them all out for making a racket and did they want to get another noise complaint?

When the university offered Kasamatsu a position as a “Floor Fellow” for the year in exchange for free housing and a food budget, he had an idea of what he would have to put up with. He was a first year once. He knew that he was going to have to put up with a gang of little shits that were finally free from the reign of their parents and probably had no idea how to do their laundry or operate a shower. He’d been there, done that. This year he and his friends had difficulty finding a place with enough bedrooms, and honestly it would save him a ton of money to not have to pay for rent and food for the year. He figured it would totally be worth it.

The jury was still out on that.

It certainly was worse than he remembered. Maybe when he was in first year he’d been a part of a much calmer floor, or he had no idea how bad they’d really been. Or maybe he was now stuck keeping an eye on the most insane floor in the history of the university. There were complaints every week about noise or messes in the stairwell or, in one exceptionally irritating case, the laundry room getting flooded with a wall of foamy detergent and two of his boys at the center of it. His floor was unruly and troublesome were probably going to make him grey prematurely and he’d be damned if he’d ever admit it but they’re kind of growing on him. Kagami would make him and Miyagi what they had dubbed Guilt Breakfast whenever they had to deal with an abundance of complaints, and while their quirks could drive him up the wall, they usually made for good company. He wasn’t sure he’d go so far as to call the floor brats his friend, but they were certainly friendly. Just... a little rowdy, to put it lightly.

He finally disbanded their gaming when a controller came whizzing past his head and shattered a thankfully empty mug on the opposite counter. He’d turned around, slowly. By the time he’d faced them they’d already jumped out of their seats and made a beeline for the door. So Kasamatsu finally got the comfiest chair after sweeping up some broken glass and putting a surprisingly intact controller next to its console (and putting up with some shitty “If it’s any consolation” comments from Izuki at one of the eating tables).

With everyone gone, the room was actually pretty quiet. Once Izuki shut his god forsaken mouth he simply sat with his pen tapping his notebook, Kiyoshi across from him flipping through some book or other. Midorima was loitering in the kitchen watching over some kind of stir fry that forced his glasses to be placed on the counter next an obnoxiously orange trumpet he’d gotten from who knows where. Basically, it was quiet and smelled like the tang of garlic and some kind of dark cooking sauce. Perfect for trying to get some work done in a place that wasn’t his cramped dorm room.

His perfect world only lasted him through the first sonnet. Just as he decided that he would have to keep leafing through the book the goddamn sun itself came bounding into the room.

“Let’s play some ga—oh.” Kise crowed, only to be cut off by the essentially empty room. Kasamatsu glared up from his text. Kise pouted.

“Senpaaai,” he whined. “Did you scare them all away?”

Kasamatsu’s head throbbed, and grinding his teeth probably wasn’t help it.

“They nearly broke the kitchen again  tonight,” he said, looking back down to his text. Which page was the next one on again? “Show up earlier next time.”

Kasamatsu hoped that being dismissive would prompt Kise to go bother someone else so that he could work. Preferably whoever it was that smashed the mug in order to cheer up the bastard that had better be feeling bad about it. Instead Kise groaned and slouched over to the couch before flopping face first onto it.

“I can’t,” he grumbled. “We have theatre meetings on Mondays. And Wednesdays and Thursdays."

"Well it's your own fault, then," Kasamatsu said. "You wanna goof off with the guys then you need to drop the club."

"I can't do _that_!" Kise looked up, appalled. "I can't abandon my friends! I'm an asset to the production! The show can't go on without me."

"Perish the thought," Kasamatsu mumbled under his breath. Honestly, Kise managed to be both the easiest and most difficult guy for him and Miyagi to manage. Some of the others were difficult to reign in at first since they didn't seem to know respect unless it shoved a foot in their face. Aomine was probably the most difficult, and yet it was Kise that gave them the biggest headaches.

Whenever they asked Kise to do something (like to put his dishes away) or not to do something (like leave his notebooks on the chairs in the common room) he would smile and nod and promise to fix it next time. And then Midorima would get so fed up with Kise's bowl being on the counter that he would put it up on the one shelf that only he and Murasakibara could reach. Or Akashi would take his textbook that he just sat on and throw it haphazardly into Kuroko's book mess, never to be seen again.

Then there would be a big show of him trying to get whatever it was back. It was just a constant cycle of not-listening and avoidable drama, and it drove Kasamatsu absolutely insane. Kise was a good guy, he constantly had to remind himself lest he throw something at him. It’s no wonder that he joined the campus theatre group. The guy fit in there like Murasakibara in the kitchen.

“Anyway, whatcha doin’, Senpai?” Kise rocked up onto his elbows, peeking his nose just over the arm of the couch so that he could try to see the book in Kasamatsu’s lap.

“Homework,” Kasamatsu replied. He doubted the idiot could even read a page from the angle he was lounging at. “Apparently no one else in this damn school has any.”

“Nahh, I don’t have an assignment due until the end of the week,” Kise said flippantly. Kasamatsu growled. Of course. And naturally he’d be up all night in the eating area doing it, probably slowly going insane with the other idiots that left their shit to the last minute. Whatever, not his problem. Kise continued, “But what is this?”

A hand reached out to snag the book out of his lap. Kasamatsu responding by flicking the back of Kise’s hand.

“It’s an assignment for my Shakespeare class,” Kasamatsu indulged. “We need to do a comparative commentary on the modern period against one of the plays.”

Kise sniffed, a delicate frown marring his face. “Essays are terrible. I feel bad for you.”

He drew his foot up and shoved it in Kise’s face. Ignoring the indignant squawk he scolded, “Don’t talk to me like you’re some old man! It’s not an essay, it’s an open assignment. I could just do an essay, but you’ll learn that you’ve gotta do weird shit if you wanna get the good grades.”

“Right right. So what’re you doing then?”

Kasamatsu thought about it. There was serious risk involved. If he didn’t say anything Kise would pout and whine and he would get zero work done. But if he did say something then he still might not get off the hook. He would tell him and Kise would either be satisfied and go find the other guys, or he would get badgered for the rest of the night.

“He’s writing a song!” Miyagi crowed— damn it, where’d the bastard even come from? He heard Kise inhale sharply. Aw fuck here we go.

“Senpai you sing?” Kise was really trying to seem calm about it. But he always got that whiney ring whenever he got disproportionately excited about something. A pit formed in Kasamatsu’s stomach, the kind that only show up when he was sensing impending doom, or when he had to do public speaking. It was a pretty accurate sense most of the time. Saved him an Miyagi from getting chewed out by the guys on the floor below more times than he could count.  
“What’s it to you?” He replied tersely. He wanted to sink down into his seat and bury his face into his book because Kise had that goddamn little sparkle in his eye.

“N-Nothing!” The pit in Kasamatsu’s stomach deepened. This was not good. Kise was coy, and he was damn good at it when he wanted to be. This was not coy. This was way more obvious than normal. “Say, can you sing me something.”

“I’m not your mom, I’m not going to sing you to sleep.” He could definitely feel heat crawl up his neck. He would appreciate the topic just being dropped. He sang, but he wasn’t a singer by any means. Just a guy who could carry a tune.

“D’awwwww senpai please?”

“He’s got the voice of an angel.” The traitor was leaning in the island counter, stretching his back and reaching over to steal a vegetable from Midorima’s completed dish. “Plays guitar too. He practices all the time. I’m surprised no one’s heard him yet.”

“It can stay like that.” Shit, now his face was getting warm too. It’s not like he was embarrassed by it or anything! He’d been playing since he was a kid, same as he’d played basketball. It was just for fun, and it was a hobby that was just for him. No one to depend on him, no one he had to guide. It was just him alone with music. He didn’t usually sing in front of people, but he thought that maybe this one time he could do it well enough to get him that little push to get a really good grade. He just didn’t need people making a big show of it. Which unfortunately was exactly what was happening. Besides, he wasn’t that good anyway.

“I need to hear you sing, senpai! Please?” Kise was practically in his lap now, any of his poor attempts at trying to be casual completely out the window. Kasamatsu squawked, jerking back his leg to jam it into Kise’s face and knock him to the floor.

“No. I’ve got work to do, so go bother someone else,” he snarled. Miyagi was dead to him. Beyond dead. He made a note to have a little chat with Kuroko about fucking with him somehow. “It’s quiet time in the common area.”

Kise didn’t leave, but he did quiet down a little. He still whined, wordlessly, about getting kicked, but it didn’t take too long for him to get immersed in his phone. Finally, finally, he had a chance to work. Theoretically. The tingling of imminent trouble still lingered, and it made it hard to focus. It really didn’t help that Kise kept glancing up at him from his phone every now and then.

He was safe that night. Kise left after ten minutes, and he heard an echo of chatter and shouts of what he assumed was Kise bouncing into whoever’s room the rest of the guys had piled into. Kasamatsu then glared at Miyagi, who had helped himself to a bowl of Midorima’s stir fry after offering a few pointers about less salt and vegetable-to-meat ratios.

“Don’t look so freaked out,” Miyagi shrugged.

“Are you kidding?” Kasamatsu said, chewing the end of his pen. “It’s Kise. He might be flightier than a bird, but that guy is a schemer.”

Miyagi raised a brow. “You make it sound like I’ve signed your execution form. Relax, this might even be good for you in the end.”

Kasamatsu snorted and rolled his eyes. As if. Kise was just another floor brat who’s sole purpose seemed to be to drive everyone insane. He just was better at having an ulterior motive for it all. Leaving his dishes out netted him pity from Himuro, who helped him cook for the next week. Leaving his notebooks lying around and subsequently losing them made it easier for him to ask a cute girl in his class to help him study since his dormmates lost his books. Kise was very good at looking like an idiot, but Kasamatsu could see right through him. Hopefully the others would start to catch on sooner rather than later.

The next morning, he awoke to some papers jammed under his door. He ignored them at first, in favour of slumping into the kitchen to get a morning coffee. Kise was there, looking at him expectantly, but to be honest it was too early to be putting up with shit thrown his way. Unless it was an emergency, it could be dealt with after he had a chance to wake up. When he returned to his room a few hours later to peel layers of blankets off of Miyagi to wake him up, he nearly slipped and died on those papers. He looked at them, pissed to all hell, and immediately tossed them in the bin. He wasn’t much of a theatre guy, and he didn’t care to get an advertisement for the campus one.

Later that day, as he leafed through his textbook, he found pages of sheet music jammed inside. They were also tossed. Show tunes weren’t his thing.

The next day, lyrics were scrawled on the top margin of his notes. That one pissed him off, because he actually really needed those for studying.

After that, there were pages of a script pasted everywhere on the floor, with the lines of the lead character highlighted. Everyone else was thoroughly confused, but they could feel the irritation and rage rolling off Kasamatsu, meaning that they were all very quiet that day and did nothing wrong in the slightest. Murasakibara even cooked him dinner.

Kasamatsu knew. He knew who it was, and who was to blame for it. Miyagi had put the stupid idea in Kise’s tiny brain, and now he was being solicited in that special way that only that idiot could manage. And, even worse, other than putting ads for the musical up on every surface in the building, Kise was actually doing nothing wrong. He was eerily dormant, even when every other brats on the floor decided it would be funny to just leave in the middle of the night, with the expectation that Miyagi and Kasamatsu would freak out that they were all missing. Kise was the only one there in the morning, sitting disheveled in the kitchen with what appeared to be a small bowl with a handle filled with a heavily fragrant tea. He played innocent about the other’s where-abouts, but he was still there. Not doing anything remotely out of the ordinary, which was very out of the ordinary by Kise standards.

But he was able to persevere. He assumed that after getting ignored Kise would get bored and then find someone else to bother. Instead Kasamatsu focused on getting his assignment done. And he was damned proud of the thing, if he did say so himself. It was a perfect combination of actual analysis and over the top hijinx that professors just ate up. He made sure to get his practice done literally anywhere what wasn’t the dorm. Kise was still freaking him out, so he made sure to be in places where he wouldn’t be overheard by someone who actually mattered. Luckily he’d made friends with some music department kids and was able to sneak some practice room time later at night when they weren’t being used.

The morning of his performance he immediately regretted his decision.

“Why did I do this?” he grumbled, partially to Miyagi, who was bundled on his bed under six blankets, and partially to himself.

“Because you’re a goodie-two-shoes that puts way too much effort into his undergrad,” Miyagi’s voice mumbled from somewhere in his pile.

“But if it doesn’t work then it’s going to backfire horribly and I won’t graduate.”

The second the words left his mouth he knew. He knew that if Miyagi was actually looking at him and not nested in his bed, he would be on the receiving end of the most scathing look possible. But he was in some kind of post-assignment coma and hadn’t left his bed since the previous night, so instead the lump just shifted until a hand poked out and pointed sternly at him.

“Stop being a whiner and do it.”

“I am not whining.”

“Yeah you are, and all because you don't want to sing.”

“W-What’re you—”

“Save it. You used to freak out when I even saw your guitar. You could play basketball in high school competitions with thousands of people watching no problem. The second someone asks you to sing Happy Birthday you clam up and hide in the washroom.”

Kasamatsu didn’t respond, and he was certainly not blushing. Basketball was easy and completely different from this. It was different when he fucked up with a team to catch him.

“Well I wasn’t nearly as calm on the court as I apparently looked because—”

“Kasamatsu Yukio,” Miyagi cut him off, his head popping up from under his blankets and yes, there was that scathing look. Kasamatsu was taken aback. “Putting aside the fact that you play fine and you sing like some kind of superstar, this is your undergrad. The details mean shit all. Even if you do screw up no one will care. You’ve put the work in, just get the grade and get it over with. I bet no one in your class’ll even notice if you make a mistake. Now put on your big boy pants and just leave.”

“Right. Okay, yeah.”

Strangely, Miyagi’s pep talk actually helped. His professor was extremely excited that someone actually did an assignment that wasn’t just a paper. And the performance itself went off without a hitch. There was only a little bit of freaking out, but he remembered the “it’s only an undergrad” and his class was “probably being too thick about music to even know if he messed up” parts of the pep talk and it helped relax him enough to get his hand around the neck of his guitar without his hands shaking. Too much. The acoustics in the room could have been better, but in the end it sounded alright.

At least he hoped it did. The dumbfounded looks from his classmates was less than comforting, but a raucous clapping from his teacher stirred them into equally enthused applause. His prof waxed poetics as he got up, gushing about how refreshing it was to have a presentation assignment and how beautiful his voice was. Miyagi was right, they didn’t notice how he missed a few plucked notes or how he was slightly off key at the end of the second verse. He gave a jerky nod of his head instead of a bow and, on his way back to his seat, stuttered only a little when a guy gave him a thumbs up and a little card that advertised an open mic at the campus coffee shop, The Blend.

Just as he was about to pat himself on the back for a job well done, with both the performance and the fact that he didn’t vomit on the front row, he glanced up from the card to the back door. There, with his face pressed against the window and jaw on the floor, was Kise, staring at him with unabashed shock. The moment they made eye contact though his face lit up like the sun, and Kasamatsu immediately felt his face heat as he looked away as quickly as possible. The knot in his stomach that he’d been harbouring all throughout this assignment, which he had just noticed had gone away, returned tenfold. He nearly slipped off to the washroom, maybe to splash water on his face, maybe to actually vomit, but there was no way in hell he was going out there in the open.

This is when hell starts, he thought miserably. Looks like Kise finally got to hear him sing like he’s wanted to.

His class was too small to sneak out in the crowd, not to mention weaving through a group was much harder with his guitar, so the moment he stepped out of the class Kise had already zeroed in on him.

“Senpai!”

“Hello, Kise,” he grumbled. “Why are you stalking me outside my classroom?”

He knew why. He knew exactly why and it made a knot form in his stomach and had him subtly tapping his heel. But he still glared up at him with a firm press of his lips and his hip jutting out.

Kise didn’t quite respond at first. He floundered for words, opening and closing his mouth and waving his hands around. Kasamatsu put up with it for about five seconds before he turned on his heel and left.

“W-Wait, senpai!” Kise jogged up next to him, Kasamatsu not faltering his stride. It’s not that he didn’t stop so that he wouldn’t have to look Kise in the face, no way. He just had places to be right then and didn’t have time to wait around for him to say something dumb.

“What class was that?” It wasn’t the question Kasamatsu expected, and he almost faltered in his step.

“It’s my Shakespeare class,” he said.

“Oh!” Kise said. “It’s that assignment you were working on a few weeks ago!”

“Yeah, the one that you’ve been bothering me about since you found out about it,” Kasamatsu shot back. Kise didn’t even have the gall to look sheepish.

“That’s because I knew it!” He said, his stride becoming a bounce. “I knew you’d be a great singer, senpai! LIke an angel, just like Miyagi-senpai said! You should join the musical!”

“Not interested,” Kasamatsu mumbled, his face certainly not feeling warm, not at all. “I’m not a singer, I’m just a guy who sings.”

“That’s the same thing, senpai,” Kise chided. “You should at least stop by a rehersal and see how it’s all coming together! It’s really neat…”

The rest of the walk back to the dorms was very one sided. Kise prattled and prided on the musical, telling him this and that and how his friends were all so amazing and how he’d met the director when he first got to Uni and she welcomed him into the theatre circle with open arms. He talked about his role as “marketing and talent acquisition” in the team and how they all thought he was perfect for it. He bragged about how all of the little pieces were slowly coming together—

“—except for the cast,” Kise said. They were climbing the stairs back to their floor, and even still Kise was able to keep chatting away without pause. “Everyone I brought in for the singing parts ended up being better in other places. Which is fine!” He added hastily. “I knew they’d be good for the show, just like I know you’ll be good for the show. So can you at least stop by and check it out? We really need to get our cast up and running.”

Kasamatsu paused at the top of the flight of stairs, Kise a few steps behind him. A small part of him didn’t want to disappoint Kise by denying him, but it was immediately trumped by an image of standing on stage in front of a hundred shadowy figures all staring at him and the pressure of the people on stage beside him just suffocating him until his throat closed up and his legs stopped moving and the person on stage next to him was just glaring and gesturing for him to do something—

“No, Kise,” he said with only a slight crack in his voice. Static started to fill his ears and he unsuccessfully tried to shake it away. “I’m not a performer. I just did that to get the grade. Find someone else.”

He didn’t look back as he all but rushed back into his room, unsure if Kise called after him or not. His hands only shook a little as he tried to get the door open. Inside, Miyagi was still a lump of fabric on his bed.

“So,” his voice came from inside the pile. “How did it go?”

“Kise asked me to be in the musical,” Kasamatsu replied, putting his guitar case down rougher than normal and plopping onto his own bed. He looked down at his shaking hands and exhaled deeply before clawing them into the mattress to try and get them to stop.

“Oookay then,” Miyagi drawled. “That wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but alright. What’s wrong with that.”  
“I don’t do theatre,” he said. “It’s not my thing.”

“Alright,” Miyagi said. “So just don’t do it.”

Kasamatsu grumbled and flopped backwards. “I did, but Kise doesn’t know when to quit.”

Miyagi just chucked. “Truer words were never spoken. Good luck, man.”

True to prediction, Kise was always everywhere. After all of his classes Kise was loitering outside. He would catch sight of Kasamatsu every time and jog over just to chat; about his classes, about his sisters, about his occasional side job as a model, about Kasamatsu’s classes and hey, senpai, how’s your basketball club going? It wouldn’t have been so bad, to be honest. Kise was way too energetic to be a normal human being, but he was easy to talk to. He seemed genuinely curious with every question he asked and good naturedly took any banter that Kasamatsu threw at him. He would admit that their conversations were enjoyable if they weren’t just a way to butter him up. Kise balked at the idea when he first accused him, and claimed that there was no way that it was just for show. But every time they talked Kise would bring up his goddamned club.

“It’s a musical, senpai!” He gushed. “It’s gonna be amazing! Kaoi-san’s a great director, she knows so much about productions. And Satoshi builds everything so fast! At this rate we’ll have the set done before we finish getting the cast together—”

And then…

“Hey senpai, you should join! We need someone to be the male lead and you apparently sing so well.”

“No thanks, I’m not an actor.”

“We can teach you that, no problem!”

“I’m not a performer, Kise. If you need a lead why don’t you just do it?”

Kise scoffed. “I’m the Scouting guy, I can’t be in it too.”

The first time they had this conversation it was flattering. Kasamatsu never admitted it, but even though Kise had never heard him sing it was still nice to be valued like that. But then there was the fifth time. And the twelfth time. And the twentieth time. Every single time Kise would ask and Kasamatsu would decline, less and less politely as time went on. Apparently ‘no’ was not in his vocabulary, and it made Kasamatsu want pull his hair out. Kise’s, not his own.

There was one night, one blessed night, when he’s managed to get lost in the crowd of his one giant class and hide away in the library. He hid there the entire day, working on other assignments or going over plays for his team. It was only intramural basketball, but one of the things he liked while playing in high school was the whole planning and execution of a good play. It might all be for fun now, but he still wanted to do well in games. Kise had nodded sagely when he mentioned it one day.

“That’s very like you, senpai,” he said.

Kasamatsu groaned and let his head drop onto the desk he was at. Even when he was actively avoiding Kise he still thought about him. That damned blond would never leave him alone. He was officially cursed, or something.

He camped out until it was late, the sun having set long ago. As he left the library, with armed with a couple of books but a few lessons ahead of his readings, the area had already mostly been emptied. Evening classes were still on the go, but other that the only people that were really around were people just leaving club meetings. The campus streetlamps were bright enough to bring some light to the area, but it really only cast pools of light to wherever the shined, leaving a twisting path of dark asphalt between them. Inefficient, Kasamatsu thought. There were few corners to hide in in the quad, however, so he supposed it wasn’t exactly a safety hazard there. It just meant that while it could be bright in some places, taking two steps to the left would leave people in the dark.

Walking around campus at night was pretty peaceful, he thought. There was no hustle and bustle of people hurrying to class, no low cacophony of people talking, no aura of stress and exhaustion looming over his shoulder. It was just dark and quiet and relaxing. He should probably stroll around at night more often. Maybe Kise would want to--

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. Fucking hell, his mind needed a cleanse.

He turned the corner onto the campus quad and froze. Standing ahead, having just exited some arts building, was the theatre group. Normally Kasamatsu wouldn’t have been able to to tell who they were, or even given a shit. But Kise was standing with them, hands shoved in his pockets. He could hear his obnoxious laughter from there.

Immediately Kasamatsu ducked back behind the corner. He did not want to be seen. The last thing he needed was for all of Kise’s little friends to get on his case too. He was about to just turn around and find another route back to the dorms, but he realized that he could also hear their conversation from there.

“Well, at least we have enough people for a cast.”

“Yeah. I wish some of them were good enough to take the bigger supporting roles. Too bad we’re stuck with mediocre talent.”

“Don’t worry guys!” That was Kise’s annoyingly chipper voice. “I’ll get Kasamatsu-senpai to join, just you wait.”

“You really sure he’s any good?” Someone asked. “You thought Satoshi was good too and the guy’s got two left feet.”

“At least he’s got some talent for set design! Keiyo-chan can barely carry a tune! You sure you’ve got any eye for talent, Kise?”

The words themselves sounded harmless enough, but something in the tone and the prickled laughter that followed made his chest harden. Didn’t Kise say he was friends with these guys?

“Don’t worry, Kasamatsu-senpai’s the real deal. He’s this close to joining, I swear.”

“Whatever you say, Kise.”

Again with the dismissive laughs. His scowl deepened and his legs got restless. They loitered out in the quad for a while longer, chatting about scripts and sets. Kise was strangely quiet, except to chide at a comment thrown at him every now and then. Kasamatsu hated it. This was not the same guy who pestered him for ages about joining the damn club. Whoever the guy standing out there was a complete stranger.

He stood there, hidden and listening to them rag on Kise for what felt like an eternity. The finally excused themselves with some bullshit excuse about how they had to have a ‘theatre council meeting, I’m sure you understand Kise.’ He waited until he couldn’t hear their fucking snickering anymore before peeking around the corner.

Like a scene cut from a shitty movie, Kise was standing along in the lamplight, his back to Kasamatsu and his shadow nearly non-existent against the pavement. Although to be honest if Kasamatsu hadn’t heard him talking before he wouldn’t have thought that this could have been Kise. His shoulders were hunched forward, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his jacket, and his head was ducked forward like it was too much of an effort to support. It actually made Kasamatsu want to say something nice, but nice words always sounded clumsy on his tongue. Nice words were for someone like Himuro, or Furihata. But he’d be damned if he didn’t want to try, if only because this image of Kise made him uncomfortable.

“What the hell are you doing out here by yourself like some sad romance scene?”

_Nailed it_ , he cursed, _you fucking idiot._

Kise whipped around, and suddenly all traces of misery were just gone. His posture popped back up and a blinding smile burst onto his face.

“Senpai!” Kise crowed, bounding down the courtyard until he was standing way too close. “I was just thinking about you!”

Kasamatsu froze for a second. This was a more familiar Kise, all dramatic actions and glittering attitude. It was almost like he had imagined seeing him down. But now that he looked, the smile wasn’t quite wide enough, and his hands were still hiding in his pockets. He frowned.

“You okay?” He asked. Those were nice words, right?

Kise nodded one too many times. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

_Maybe because your friends just shit all over you?_ His frown deepened. He squinted up at Kise, blinded not only by the sheer cheerful energy but also by the lamplight.

“Anyway,” Kise continued, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You should come by our rehearsal next week! I know you keep saying you’re–”

“Not interested.”

“–but I really think that you should at least check it out! We’ve got some costumes half made and you should see the set! Satoshi-kun is amazing at–”

Kasamatsu ground his teeth. Was he really feeling sorry for this guy a second ago? All he did was badger and poke and talk, _man_ did he talk. Even after Kasamatsu stopped responding and walked off Kise just followed, babbling happily about Satoshi’s set and Keiyo’s piano playing and Watari’s technical knowledge and did it ever end?

He was followed after leaving the main paths to opt for shortcuts between buildings just to get home faster, where Kise would hopefully get distracted by _anything_. It was darker there, with old flickering lights that probably spend more power getting to the bulb than actually giving off light. Luckily it was a bright, cloudless night to actually light the way. He could probably see stars if he squinted.

Just a few more minutes, he told himself as he tried to drown out Kise’s prattle. Just a few more minutes and–”

“–and maybe you could actually talk to girls, senpai!”  
Alright, fuck this. Kasamatsu whirled around, glowering with his fists clenched. The look alone made Kise falter.

“Look,” he ground out. “I get that you want me to join your stupid club. I get that you’re short on members. But I don’t. Want. To. Join. I don’t like to dance, I don’t like to act, and I don’t like to sing in front of crowds. Stop asking and go find someone who actually wants to be there.”

So much for nice. Kise looked like a deer caught in headlights, balking with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. But he had to admit that actually felt really good. Like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Now Kise could focus on finding someone else to join the club.

His relief was quickly replaced with a knot in his throat.

“But we need you senpai!” Kise probably tried to whine, chipper like always, but it was more like a croak. Even his grin, usually shining to the point of irritation, was lackluster. Like the soft diffusion of moonlight instead of the blinding rays sun. He used the words like they were something to not offend someone. But it didn’t take a genius to realize that he was substituting.

“You know, you don’t have to bend over backwards for them,” Kasamatsu said, surprisingly softly even to him. “They don’t like you. So just go do something you like.”

“I can’t let them down now.” Now that’s a tone he never expected to hear from Kise, the guy who usually oozed confidence in himself, if nothing else. He took a hard look at Kise, who was too busy counting cracks in the pavement to notice. He got the feeling that if he was looking from the back he’d see that same silhouette of defeat that’d he’d seen in the courtyard.

He’d just never seen Kise look so… small. It wasn’t just that his shoulders were hunched and his spine curved down, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his jacket and nose buried into his scarf. It was the entire aura that usually surrounded him was just gone. Kasamatsu would have expected some kind of black hole effect, sucking in the energy around him to make everything feel terrible in the same way he could make people feel better when he was in a good mood. But it wasn’t. There was no supernova. No outburst of sadness or frustration. No pleading for sympathy. Just a quiet nothingness, like something that you forgot you should miss. It ignited something in Kasamatsu’s bones, heating straight to the tips of his fingers,pulling tight in his chest, and itching at his muscles.

“Bull. Shit,” Kasamatsu snapped. His comment made Kise start and blink owlishly at him. “You don’t owe them anything.”

He stomped over and grabbed him by the wrist. It took very little to drag the startled Kise along behind him, and thankfully he put up no resistance.

“S-Senpai? What’re you doing?”

“You’re signing up for the basketball club,” he said. “Our intramural team. Me and some guys who live off campus now. We’ve been looking for a fifth.”

It was a partial truth. Nakamura was usually too busy to play anyway.

“I’ve never played basketball before, though,” Kise tried to object. He tried to tug his wrist free from Kasamatsu’s vice grip, but there was little to no effort put into it. More like it was a formality to protest.

“You’ll be fine,” Kasamatsu said. “You pick up on things fast and this is all just for fun anyway. Fun, and kicking Izuki’s ass.”

“You really can’t stand those puns can you?”

“If he says “at least the morning pot is cof _free_ ” one more time I’m going to dump it over his head.”

That made Kise laugh— it wasn’t very loud and almost sounded like a ‘hmph,’ but it was an actual honest-to-God laugh. No weird throaty cackle or stupid little “tee-hee!” About time Kise started being a real person. He was suddenly afraid that Kise would close up again– just plaster that stupid plastic expression on and try and look happy.

So Kasamatsu kept talking. Honestly, he had no idea what he said, but so long as it kept Kise responding to his questions and joking about classes and telling stories about his sisters then Kasamatsu would just keep blurting things out. Kise was still animated when he talked, but Kasamatsu learned that he usually always used his showman’s voice. This was different. It was strange hearing him actually speak normally for once, but goddamn was it relieving to hear a lower tone instead of some pitchy warble.  

Even after they had slowed down, walking side by side through campus without really paying attention to where they were going, Kasamatsu forgot that he was still holding Kise’s wrist.

 

 

[In typical Kise fashion, he ignored Kasamatsu once again and tried to return to the theatre group. Kasamatsu caught him going out as he was on his way up to get his gym clothes. He was promptly bodily forced back up to his room to grab something he could sweat in and then forced with equal struggle to head to the gym. At first Kise tried to fight it, but Kasamatsu knew it was a front, mostly because it was way too easy. Even if half way there he had to heft Kise over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way. The other guys were surprised that Kise was actually real and not some phantom sixth man Kasamatsu had made up. It took some time, but Kise warmed up to them. When the theatre group came lurking around the dorms looking for Kise, it was Kasamatsu that saw them first. When Kise mentioned at practice one day that he should check up on the theatre guys, Kasamatsu told him that it was taken care of.]

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> G U E S S W H O ‘ S A Z O M B I E? Still dead, but out shambling in the fandom.
> 
> Only excuse really is that I’m tired and busy. Not sure if I’m gonna be able to finish this whole University series like I wanted. I’ve recently lost interest in writing most thing (mostly because DMing a D&D campaign is creatively draining, but also working a Full Time Adult Job is also tiring and I just want to come home and work through my backlog of video games), but I’m going to do my best to get some of these started-but-unfinished works out.
> 
> Prompt:  
> “holy shIT YOU ACTED REALLY WELL IN THIS CLASS PROJECT PLEASE AUDITION FOR THE CAMPUS MUSICAL WE NEED MORE PEOPLE”  
> [http://genderqueerfuri.tumblr.com/post/115003775622/more-akafuri-college-au-ideas] 
> 
> Again, apologies for lazy research, AKA making it a Shakespeare class instead of a Japanese Lit class. I just. It was late. I was lazy. It’s been a theme this series. orz.
> 
> We also get the dramatic return of “Izuki please get out of Ven’s writing she can’t do puns”. (For more horrid pun action check out Familia Myth, which I think is currently Tumblr exclusive [user name is also VenTheWriter there])
> 
> Every piece. I think Izuki’s been in every KnB piece I’ve written so far.  
> Why, pun child. Why.
> 
> This prompt kind of got changed a bit, with Kise knowing about Kasamatsu’s singing before hand, but that’s why it’s a prompt and not a quote? (Shhhhhhh everything is fine)


End file.
